


under the moon in the dark sky

by czqy



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, First Kiss, M/M, Pining Tsukishima Kei, Post-Time Skip, i project onto tsukki and hope it works out, no actual drinking in fic but they have some alcohol in their systems, roundabout confessions?, some tension i hope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:40:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28373304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/czqy/pseuds/czqy
Summary: Tsukishima has been watching Kuroo for a while.Then, he gets up and walks over to him.(alternatively: a story about taking chances and finally doing something for once.)
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei
Comments: 2
Kudos: 75





	under the moon in the dark sky

Tsukishima isn’t sure what compels him to do it. Maybe it’s the fact the atmosphere is so lively around him. Maybe it’s because he’s had a few to drink. Maybe it’s just that Kuroo looks really, _really_ good in a suit.

Or perhaps it’s a culmination of all the above.

Regardless of the reasons, Tsukishima walks up to the older man sitting by his lonesome on one of the stools at a small rounded wooden table and says, “Hello, Kuroo-san.”

“Oh, Tsukki!” the man exclaims, and Tsukishima can’t remember why he ever told him not to call him by that name because right now it makes them sound _familiarised_ , as if it hasn’t been years since they last properly spoke. 

It brings a blush to Tsukishima’s cheeks, one he hopes is hidden under the flush already present from the alcohol in his system.

He doesn’t know what to say after that because he really hasn’t planned this far—all his efforts had gone into weighing up how bad of an idea this would be. 

How bad of an idea it is _now_ , because as always Tsukishima wants to fall back on something snarky, maybe make a quip about the fact Kuroo is sitting alone, but he also thinks that if he wants this to go well maybe he shouldn’t be who he always is.

As he struggles to formulate a normal response, he notes that Kuroo isn’t helping the situation. 

The man simply sits there with his chin resting in his palm, observing him. It’s almost lazy, the way his eyes rake over Tsukishima’s figure, yet all the same he feels on edge from it. Like a predator is staking out its prey.

And Tsukishima, despite the fact that crows are predators and scavengers, is the hunted.

But cats are predators too, Tsukishima remembers. 

Maybe he should stop making comparisons using the animals from their high school teams, he tells himself next. It’s been years since either of them have represented those names anyway.

And yet… 

(He hasn’t been able to break the habit of associating everyone with their alliances back then. Some of the best and most important memories of his life have come from that time, after all.)

Kuroo doesn’t comment on the silence stretching between them, nor does he try to break it.

At some point Tsukishima gets frustrated.

He furrows his eyebrows and opens his mouth to insult Kuroo’s manners, knowing full well how hypocritical it would be, but it seems that is the very moment Kuroo also chooses to speak.

“So, how are you?”

It shocks Tsukishima to the point he reflexively answers, “Fine,” short and curt, then immediately scowls. He is purposefully trying not to act this way, but as usual Kuroo just has to go and make him do something he doesn’t want to do.

“And you?” Tsukishima asks a beat later. He can manage this much, at least. Even though it’s just meaningless conversation and he hates these the most. They’re a waste of everyone’s time, but… 

Tsukishima looks over at the corner he came from, where some (Kageyama) are slumped over the table and others (Hinata) are making sure the entire izakaya can hear his booming voice.

He guesses he has the time to waste.

Kuroo hums before replying, “I’m good. A bit peeved my friends went off somewhere while I was in the toilet and aren’t responding to my messages, but,” and then he gives Tsukishima a pointed look and very handsome smirk, “I’m in good company now.”

Tsukishima isn’t an idiot.

He’s well aware of Kuroo’s personality. He knows how others perceive him too—vaguely recalling some story about some MSBY members calling him a con man. 

Tsukishima isn’t going to take the flirting at face value.

Not until he knows the man actually means it.

(Despite how easy it would be to just accept and play along. Have a passionate, fiery night and deal with the consequences after.

But Tsukishima isn’t like that.

And he’s wanted this too long to not be careful about it, regardless of the current state he’s in.)

Instead he nods and says, “I’m glad to hear.”

Distant and cold, just to bring the heat down a bit.

Unfortunately, however, that brings them back to square one.

Tsukishima is once again at a loss for where to take the conversation and is really starting to question why he wanted to do this in the first place. He can’t remember a single good outcome in all the simulations he ran, so he’s ready for this to end in a disaster at any moment now.

Kuroo takes the reins again, for which Tsukishima is grateful. It doesn’t help the _badump badump_ of his heart, especially when Kuroo pulls out the stool next to his and gestures for Tsukishima to sit, but the fact Kuroo wants to talk with him more overrides everything else.

“I saw your team play the other day,” the JVA employee starts. 

Tsukishima’s eyes widen. He hadn’t known. 

He replays his most recent match in his mind, scans through the faces in the crowd, but can’t seem to find one with thick unruly hair attached to it. He replays the blocks he made that game too, and wonders whether Kuroo approved of them. 

As soon as the thought crosses his mind he reprimands himself for desiring someone else’s approval like that.

Kuroo swirls the liquid in his glass, watching the miniature whirlpool it creates before continuing, “You know, I’m glad you still play.” 

He looks up then, eyes gleaming gold under the izakaya lights as they lock onto Tsukishima’s. 

Tsukishima feels locked into place too, can do nothing but stay silent as Kuroo talks, can’t do anything but listen to the words spoken about him, to him, even though the idea of hearing anything about himself—anything that’s potentially _critical_ —makes him want to run away.

“I remember when you were still a first-year, and _wow_ if that doesn’t make me sound old, but you were so indifferent and all, _‘It’s just a club.’”_

Tsukishima glares, but, well, he _was_ like that. Which is precisely why he hates having his past motto quoted back at him.

He hates being reminded of the attitude he held for so long. Can’t believe he had been that _lame_. The younger him would’ve never imagined continuing the sport after high school, and now…

“I… I probably wouldn’t be, if it weren’t for you.” Tsukishima mumbles the words with his head down, face burning with embarrassment at the fact he actually said that out loud, feeling adrenaline course through his veins as his body prepares for whatever comes next.

“Sorry?”

Tsukishima cringes internally. If Kuroo is asking for the statement to be repeated, it won’t be. Tsukishima is certain the man heard him clearly, anyway. So he elaborates instead, in the guise of correcting himself, “And Bokuto-san too, of course. My brother. His team. Akaizawa-san.”

He adds with a scoff, mostly to himself, “The gang of annoying elders.”

But really, he wants to say, _You influenced me the most though. And because of you, I was able to reconcile with my brother_.

Except that would be too truthful, too direct and forward, and who is Tsukishima if not someone who hides his emotions under the guise of sarcasm? 

He’s already revealed too much, in his opinion. He had wanted to go about this as someone who _was_ more open, because maybe that way he might actually act on his feelings, or have Kuroo draw them out and figure it out himself, but now that he’s close Tsukishima wants to do all he can to retreat back into that safe, distant place. 

Tsukishima sighs.

This is hard.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing.

He wants to go home and sleep.

Kuroo blinks twice at him, slowly like a cat, his expression entirely unreadable. He seems to catch himself though, and changes it into a jovial one. He chuckles and pats Tsukishima on the back, the warmth of his touch burning into Tsukishima’s skin, telling him, “Good, good! I’m honoured to have been a part of that. Though,” he feigns a chiding tone, “you could use some respect. We _are_ older than you, you know.”

“Only by two years,” Tsukishima retorts. 

“And what a distance that had been.” 

Tsukishima isn’t really sure what he means, but he can think of one interpretation. 

That they only had one year together.

Yamaguchi had shown Tsukishima a picture once, from their match with Nekoma at Nationals back in first year. The very first, official, Battle of the Trash Heap. 

It depicted Tsukishima smiling, one of pure joy, completely unrestrained.

Yamaguchi had said, ‘Tsukki, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this before,’ and Tsukishima immediately scowled and retorted, ‘Good. You’ll never see it again.’

But internally all he was thinking about was what he felt in that moment.

The satisfaction he had getting a spike over Nekoma’s blockers.

That volleyball was, despite how much he loathed to admit it, now fun.

Tsukishima told Kuroo at the time that it was thanks to everyone’s help.

And he meant it—still does—but really, it was thanks to _Kuroo_ that he got that push. 

Despite Tsukishima’s attitude and the fact he was resigned to others being better and didn’t particularly want to improve himself Kuroo took him as his disciple anyway and taught him even when he didn’t want it.

_(Thought_ he didn’t want it. Because in the end, he had listened to every single word Kuroo told him, hadn’t he?)

The confidence Tsukishima has in his blocking now comes from Kuroo. Before, it was really just a haughty attitude and snark with nothing to back it up. And he was okay with it. There were enough flashy people on his team already.

But Kuroo made it so that he _wasn’t_ okay with it.

And actually… that helped.

It made the sport better for him.

To this day Tsukishima still doesn’t really know why Kuroo wanted to teach him—or maybe he doesn’t want to think about the possible reasons, but he does know that he always wanted to play against Kuroo again. Or even with him.

The chance for that in their high school career was gone the moment Karasuno defeated Nekoma. 

Actually, it was gone the moment the match started.

In the end, there was only ever going to be one victor and one loser.

But even after that, it was still possible they would meet in their professional careers. 

The hope diminished when they found out that like Karasuno’s own third years, Kuroo had not joined a team after graduation.

But still, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t later.

Except years went by without his name showing up on any rosters. 

And soon, Tsukishima had graduated too, joining the Sendai Frogs where he was surprised to see a few familiar faces.

The face he did want to see, however, never showed up on the court.

It turned out Kuroo _had_ gone into professional volleyball, just not in the way everyone was expecting.

That was when Tsukishima knew he would never get that opportunity he wanted so badly, and was instead left with only his thoughts about the older teen—now young man—who’d changed his outlook on everything.

For years it had been like that. Sometimes he occupied Tsukishima’s mind more frequently than others, and sometimes Tsukishima dared to let himself dream of a day that maybe, they could be something more. 

Now that Kuroo is right here in front of Tsukishima, however, he can’t bring himself to actually do anything he wants to do. Carry out any of the events he’s imagined over and over again, waiting for this day.

The worst thing about it is that Tsukishima knows he’ll hate himself for it later. For not taking any action. He’s starting to hate himself now.

And really, it all comes down to the fact that Tsukishima is just a coward, doesn’t it?

It’s why he didn’t want to do anything to further his volleyball skill, and it’s why he’s not doing anything now.

Tsukishima is finding it hard to breathe in the suddenly too small, too packed izakaya, and pretty much pleads, “Can we please go outside?”

Kuroo’s eyes appear somewhat panicked at the urgency in his voice, but he nods and leads them through the door into the comforting cold night.

Tsukishima doesn’t miss the fact that Kuroo’s hands hovered over him the entire time, never touching, and he hates him for it.

They end up sitting on one of the benches outside the establishment, and for a while Tsukishima just gazes up at the moon in the dark sky and feels himself calm down.

He knows that Kuroo has been watching him—can see it in his periphery, but he doesn’t want to face that just yet.

The tranquil bubble between them is popped by the sudden, loud notification tone of Kuroo’s phone. He looks down at it, taps a few times, and since Tsukishima has finally looked over at him now, when he looks back up, their eyes meet.

And this would be the perfect opportunity to say something, to just get it out, because Tsukishima can feel that his chance is slipping away and—

He’s hesitated for too long. 

Kuroo stands up and brushes off imaginary dust from his spotless suit. He glances back at Tsukishima and smiles, a genuine one.

He says, “I should probably get going,” and Tsukishima just nods, letting him leave.

Kuroo seems to linger for a moment longer, but then he turns and starts to go.

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

Kuroo is five steps away when impulse causes Tsukishima to stand up after him. He is suddenly overwhelmed with the sensation to just _do something_ for once, not wanting to let this chance get away and be stuck with fantasising again for who knows how long—maybe _forever_ , so he stumbles after Kuroo who stops and looks back at the sudden sound.

“Kuroo-san, wait. Will you—” except the words get lodged in Tsukishima’s throat and he can’t get them out. 

He hates it, the way his heart is beating so fast and the blood rushing through his ears. 

Kuroo apparently misinterprets the choked-back sound for something else.

“Tsukishima, maybe we should have this conversation when you’re a little less drunk.”

Tsukishima swats his concerned hand away, “I’m barely tipsy, much less _inebriated_.”

Kuroo then rubs the back of his neck awkwardly and Tsukishima’s heart sinks. He’s fucked this up, hasn’t he? 

But Kuroo just says, “If you were gonna say what I think you were gonna say, then yeah I would like to see you again too. Meet up somewhere on purpose, just the two of us, not because our friends happened to go to the same place, but because _we_ wanted to go there. With each other. 

“I just think this is a conversation we should have sober— _fully_ sober, because don’t lie you still have alcohol in your system and I would be lying if I said I didn’t too.” 

Tsukishima must make some kind of wounded noise or pained expression then, something he isn’t even sure he is capable of, but all he knows is that Kuroo looks a bit frantic and his next words come out rushed.

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I don’t want this, or that I don’t want to see where this may go. Because I do. Even if we just end up friends or acquaintances that’s fine by me. Although if I’m being honest I’ve been thinking about kissing you for a while now.”

Upon registering the final sentence, Tsukishima’s breath hitches. Kuroo— He was thinking— He wants—

Tsukishima wants _too_.

But the reaction seems to make Kuroo panic more. It’s such a different person Tsukishima is seeing right now, compared to the one from inside in the izakaya just before.

All that suave confidence seems to have gone, and it makes Tsukishima realise that he doesn’t actually know the man in front of him. Not really. 

He wants to though.

And maybe this is why he continues to let Kuroo ramble instead of saving him like he had done for Tsukishima so many times tonight. He wants to see what Kuroo is like, when he is genuine and not scheming. 

“Not that I was planning on actually doing it! Because quite frankly I still don’t know what your feelings are, and—”

He cuts himself off when Tsukishima takes a step closer. He’s heard enough. The moment Kuroo said he doesn’t know where Tsukishima stands in all this, he knows it’s time to finally take action. 

“Kuroo-san,” Tsukishima breathes out, staring at the former captain’s mouth. 

“Yes, Tsukki?” Kuroo sounds a little breathless himself. 

When Tsukishima looks up again he finds the man fixing him with a steady gaze, one that burns with hunger and desire, but underneath it all wavers slightly from uncertainty. He flicks his eyes back down again, makes it _obvious,_ gives Kuroo enough time to stop him if he wanted.

But he doesn’t, and so Tsukishima says, “Call me Kei,” before closing the distance between their lips.

**Author's Note:**

> tsukki thought acting as someone who wasn’t himself would help but kuroo just wanted to see the tsukki as he always is :’)
> 
> also maybe this can take place after the events of my hq farewell/thankyou fic, and maybe you can read said fic [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/25414057)
> 
> hope you're well! take care <3
> 
> [TWITTER](http://twitter.com/czqy_) ; [TUMBLR](http://czqy.tumblr.com) ; [CURIOUSCAT](http://curiouscat.me/czqy)


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